Shots in the dark

I’m about four feet away from Morgan when a guy leaving the Star Bar dance floor nearly levels her with his large, errant shoulder.

From where I stand, watching tiny-framed shot girl Morgan Talbot, I feel that teeth-gritting frustration that comes so easily when you’re stone cold sober at a crowded bar. Although I am feet away and untouched, I feel like shoving this guy and growling that classic, bar fight-inducing phrase: Watch where you’re going, man.

For a moment it looks like this guy, who clearly is not watching where he’s going, is going to bark this at Talbot. But she, instead of shoving back, merely flashed him 0.5 seconds of the sultriest come-hither eyes I’ve ever seen. Then she turned on a dime and — tray of shots balanced perfectly on one hand — disappeared into the crowd.

It was a moment so fleeting and fluid, it took me a moment to process. It took less time, however, for him: In one second he went from puffy chested machismo to puppy-on-a-string, with a look on his face I can only describe as half love-at-first-sight and half utter, debilitating heartbreak.

It didn’t take much longer for him to sidle up and buy a round of shots from her tray.

In one weekend of following around local shot girls — tiny, superfluously attractive 20-something women who bypass the bartop barrier to bring shots straight to the drinking masses — I learned an awful lot about bars, gender roles within them and most importantly, the delicate art of making the sale.

I also learned definitively what most shot girls and bouncers have known since someone (a guy, I’m guessing) first thought to send cute girls with cheap shots into the crowd: This job is nothing less than a full-contact sport.

Like a cuddly whirling dervish

By 11:50 p.m., Talbot has only been on the bar floor for about half an hour but already she’s

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hugged so many people I feel inclined to start counting. By 11:53, I count five. In three minutes she’s already hugged more people than I embraced at my own high school graduation.

She only embraces people she knows, she tells me between hugs. It suddenly dawns on me, watching her dole out her two dozenth one-arm squeeze, just how many people at this bar she does know. It makes sense: It’s college night and Talbot is a Lamar student with no less than three concentrations. She’s also tended bar at Cheddar’s and Starvin Marvin’s and has been a shot girl at Star Bar for almost eight months. She’s been on the bar scene long enough to meet a few people.

The next thing I notice — after the hugging — is the jackasses. Yeah, you know those guys, the frat house types who find it very hilarious to ask for a freebie every time a shot girl crosses his path.

Their lack of common sense or shame makes me laugh almost as much as their sudden bout of frugality: Talbot’s trays are filled with test tubes of colorful liquid that cost only a dollar each. If they’re really so desperate to talk to you or down a drink, I ask, isn’t it easier just to dole out $2 (for a shot plus a tip, naturally, $3 if you feel like buying one for your shot girl)?

Talbot laughs at me and — like a camp counselor explaining “nature’s restroom” to a first-time camper — softly reminds me these people have been drinking.
But that doesn’t excuse the touching, right?

Morgan works the floor at Star Bar. Tammy McKinley/cat5

More than once while following her around, I’ve seen a guy get a little handsy. One acquaintance with his arm around her kept migrating his hand south, where he tried no less than three times to rest it at the precipice of her backside.

She slapped it away each time and scolded him firmly after the second. After the third, she just walked away and went back to the bar to re-up her tray. I’m right behind her with a barrage of questions and a feminist rant befitting the pages of Bitch Magazine.

She is calm and collected as she refills her tray behind the bar, an oscillating fan blowing strands of chestnut hair across her cheek as if someone had strategically planted a wind machine there for a photo shoot. Talbot is bathed in blue light from a nearby bar sign and for the millionth time that night — watching her work so deftly in her short shorts, tank top and high heels — I’m reminded just how beautiful she really is. If I were a guy, I’d probably try to give it a shot, too.

“I realize that a lot of people are just drunk and doing things they wouldn’t normally do,” she says before stepping beneath the counter and onto the bar floor. For a moment her face looks pensive, and as she spins on her heels to get back to the crowd, she calls back over her shoulder to me. “I still hate them, though. And I wish bad sex on them.”

I find myself thinking any guy that clueless about women probably isn’t having any sex at all. By the time I finish that thought, Talbot has disappeared again into the crowd.

Getting out from behind the bar

Jerky guys, crowded bars and non-tippers aside, there is a lot about being a shot girl that isn’t so bad.

Amity Reeves, a shot girl at the new upscale Vain Nightclub on Crockett, is the kind of effortlessly beautiful girl who looks model-esque 24/7, but she’s also perfectly comfortable teetering around the bar in five-inch heels, a cocktail dress and draped in flashy jewelry. I, on the other hand, am dressed in one of my “nice” work outfits and still barely passed the bouncer’s scrutiny.

Reeves usually works from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m. on Friday and Saturday — the only two nights Vain is open — and has taken home as much as $500 for four hours of work.

That money, she said, goes a long way in helping take care of her 4-year-old daughter and one-year-old son and pay for school.

At Vain, unlike Star Bar, the girls carry trays of $4 Jager and Vegas bombs. Whereas Talbot makes a small amount per shot plus the occasional tip, Vain shot girls make only tips. And they do pretty well for themselves.

I’d describe Talbot as a type A personality; she’s focused, outgoing and looks (and acts) like she could take down a guy twice her size in an instant.

Reeves, on the other hand, is friendly but demure. She answers my questions each time with a quiet “Yes ma’am” or “No ma’am” and flashes a toothpaste commercial-worthy smile that even makes me melt a little.

That smile, she says, is integral if she wants to make money.

“You have to have a good personality and an extremely good smile,” she said. “You can’t be shy. I talk to everybody, so you definitely have to be able to carry on a conversation.”

Reeves said she usually sells through about 10 trays a night — with 10 shots on each tray, that’s a lotta smiling.

And what, I ask, does she do when customers get pushy or touchy? She pauses for a minute and I can almost hear her Southern manners scanning her brain for the most polite answer.

“Well, I don’t want to be rude but I don’t put up with that,” she said matter-of-factly. “I try to be as friendly as possible, but if you’re going to be like that or if you’re not going to buy a drink, I don’t waste my time.”

And that’s really the key to being a successful shot girl: Balancing personable,

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conversational service with as many sales as possible. Time is money, and a little flirty conversation is only productive if a person is actually going to buy something.

The shot girls I talked to said they enjoyed having more face-to-face interaction with their customers; they connect more than they would behind the bar and their tips reflect that.
But there is one thing shot girls have to deal with that bartenders never will: outright rejection. The only time a patron waiting in line at the bar ever says no to a bartender is when said patron is about to vomit into their own cupped hands.

Shot girls hit up regulars and friends as often as they can but they, unlike bartenders, have to try not to wilt a little when patrons turn down their tray’s offerings. Talbot’s got a system for that, too.

“Get a good first sale to boost your confidence,” she said. “It sounds like the dumbest thing ever but it works.”

No, Morgan, that just sounds like good salesmanship.
Dress to impress

All of the shot girls I talked to agreed on the following things: Their job is fun but hard work, it’s obviously not a permanent gig and they’re doing this to pay the way to a brighter future. For Reeves, it’s classes (in a concentration she asked me not to divulge for privacy reasons) she’ll be completing in December. For Talbot, it’s a bachelor’s in public relations and a summer studying in Spain, where she will work to perfect her Spanish.

Morgan passes out shots on the Star Bar balcony. Tammy McKinley/cat5

None of the girls I spoke to would discourage the right girl from joining their tray-toting ranks. But you have to be willing to dress the part.

I’ve yet to meet a shot girl who couldn’t sprint across a bar in spike heels.

“I’m not trying to rock it,” Talbot explained. “I just don’t wanna get stepped on and I don’t my feet to get wet.”

Dressing with sex appeal, Reeves and Talbot said, is also of utmost importance.

“Don’t be going up there in no moo moo,” Talbot said with a laugh.

The final and perhaps most important thing to remember is to keep your distance from your customers, especially the smooth operators.

“I am not a huge skank,” Talbot told me. “I don’t give my number out all the time. In fact, I don’t ever give my number out.”

She laughed as she told me the not-so-lovely story of the one and only time she did go on a date with a customer.

“It doesn’t matter how cute or sweet or fun he is,” she said. “It never ends well.”